


Dear and Dancing Ladies

by maiden_aunt (SCFrankles)



Category: Dear Ladies (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 16:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCFrankles/pseuds/maiden_aunt
Summary: Evadne has been invited to play at the Spanish City in Whitley Bay. Hilda agrees to accompany her.





	Dear and Dancing Ladies

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my sister, who suggested the setting, as [the Spanish City](https://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/whats-on/whats-on-news/gallery/spanish-city-whitley-bay-officially-14936805) in Whitley Bay, NE England has recently reopened after being renovated and Evadne canonically often likes to take holidays in Whitley Bay.
> 
> Hinge and Bracket were created by Patrick Fyffe and George Logan. Dear Ladies was written by Fyffe and Logan, and Gyles Brandreth, and produced by the BBC.

Hilda took another brochure off the pile and smiled happily as she flicked through.

“I know we decided on only a few days away, but what about France? Paris, maybe? Or there’s Toulouse…?” She glanced up at Evadne. “Or have you changed your mind about visiting your mother while she’s over here at the castle? It would be nice to see a bit of Scotland again.”

“Scotland is no fun if Mother’s in it. I have no desire to spend our holiday as a bit player in one of her dramas. And well, actually, Hilda…” Evadne closed her own brochure and set it back on the kitchen table. “I was wondering if maybe you would like to come to the Spanish City with me.”

“Spanish city?” Hilda looked up. “Which Spanish city?” 

Her eyes widened slightly. 

“You haven’t gone and booked yourself on one of those 18-30 holidays, have you?” 

She considered Evadne. 

“You’d have to book at least three places just to make sure you were legally covered.”

Evadne smiled somewhat tightly. “Thank you, Hilda. But no, that’s not what I meant.” 

She leant forward and the smile became more genuine.

“I meant the Spanish City in Whitley Bay! You know, the leisure centre.”

“Oh. Whitley Bay…”

Hilda sighed.

“I really don’t think that’s for me, dear.”

She turned her attention back to her brochure.

Evadne took it out of her hands, closed it and set it back on the pile.

Hilda looked up with an affronted expression but Evadne held up a finger. 

“No, Hilda, just listen for a moment. You have never given Whitley Bay a chance. It’s a splendid place! And the Spanish City is a marvellous building! They’re just in the process of renovating it. There’ll be brand new restaurants and bars, and a tea room!” She placed her hands firmly on the table and leant towards Hilda, her smile now very wide indeed. “And I’ve been invited to play at a ceremony in the central foyer!”

Hilda looked puzzled. “So why you in particular?” 

Evadne’s smile faltered somewhat. “Well, thank _you,_ Hilda.”

Hilda reached over and patted her hand apologetically. “No, I didn’t mean it like that, dear. I just mean… Well, I know you’ve been going there twice a year since God was a boy, but that’s just as a holiday-maker. I’d have thought they’d want someone with a closer connection to the place.”

“I have connections.” Evadne sat up a little straighter. “It’s difficult _not_ to make connections as time goes by. I’ve actually made quite a few friends on the town council there, and I’ve rather become their go-to person for this sort of thing. Over the years, I’ve been asked to make many little appearances—handing out prizes at local schools, the odd concert in the library, the occasional supermarket opening.”

Hilda gave her a long look with raised eyebrows. “You’ve kept all this very quiet.”

Evadne sighed. 

“Hilda, when I was a child, I was ‘Hector Hinge’s daughter’. As an adult, I am ‘Dame Hilda Bracket’s accompanist and faithful companion’.”

She gave a little shrug.

“It’s just nice to have something in my life that’s entirely mine. Where I don’t have to share the spotlight.”

Hilda nodded slowly. “And now they’ve asked you to take part in the reopening ceremony?”

Evadne waved a careless hand. “Well, it’s not actually the reopening ceremony itself. That’s still a while away.” She smiled excitedly. “But it’s still a charming, and rather important ceremony.”

She leant forward again.

“You see, they have these two statues that usually stand on the towers at the front of the building—the Dancing Ladies. They’ve been taken down and reconditioned but they’re due to be put back in position in a few days. Then two days after that there will be a little ceremony to welcome them home as it were.” 

Evadne simpered rather girlishly. 

“And Cuthbert—that’s the mayor—said they couldn’t think of anyone more appropriate than me to play at this ceremony! But the thing is, I’m sure they’d let me bring you if I asked. I’ve already been promised a free double room in a lovely little hotel, so it wouldn’t cost them any more. And two dancing ladies and two musical ladies—it just seems such an apt parallel.”

“I have to say it all does sound rather intriguing, dear.” Hilda looked thoughtful. “I believe I’ve seen pictures of the Spanish City but I don’t recall the statues. What exactly do these Dancing Ladies look like?”

Evadne hesitated. “Well, they’re ladies. Dancing.”

Hilda furrowed her brow. “I did rather gather that.”

“I think one has a tambourine and the other has cymbals…” 

Evadne got up and retrieved her handbag from the kitchen counter. She sat down again and had a rummage. 

“I’ve got a postcard somewhere…” 

She pulled the card out. “Ah, yes. Here it is.” 

She passed it over to Hilda. 

“You can see the Ladies there on top of the towers. That’s the towers as they were, of course. They’ve had new cupolas added since then. I don’t think you can see the statues _terribly_ clearly but—”

“I think I can see them clearly enough, thank you very much!” 

Hilda’s eyes had become very wide indeed as she gazed at the postcard. 

“Those ‘ladies’... Well, forgive me if I’m wrong, but I can only describe them as _disporting_ themselves.”

Evadne smiled weakly. “They are supposed to be devotees of Bacchus.”

Hilda slammed the postcard onto the table, picture-side down. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I hope your precious town council wouldn’t be expecting me to recreate their poses and attire.”

Evadne smirked. “I think they would be all right with you bringing your tambourine, but I would imagine everybody would actually prefer it if you kept your cardigan on.”

Hilda opened her eyes, but only to replace that attitude of disapproval with another. She pursed her lips.

Evadne sighed. “Hilda, surely you’re not becoming a prude in your old age?”

Hilda looked away. _“If_ I was ever to become old, I’m sure I would be as open-minded as I ever was.”

“Well, then!” said Evadne. “Come with me! It’ll be fun! We’ll have a lovely two or three days away and get to look round a beautiful building, and…” She looked down. “Well, to be honest, I want to show off a bit. You’re the one who’s always the star. I just wanted you to witness me being in the spotlight for once.”

Hilda looked back at Evadne, and considered her bowed head. “Oh… all right then. I’ll come with you.”

Evadne looked up. “Really?”

“Well…” Hilda waggled her head a little. “I don’t want to be selfish. And you’re right—of course it’ll be fun.” She chuckled. “I shall do as you suggest, dear, and bring along my tambourine.”

Evadne’s expression became wary. “Yes?”

Hilda held up a hand. “Don’t worry, Evadne. I am not going to try and upstage you. I will just be there in the background to add supporting percussion to your piano playing. I won’t even sing!”

“All right then.” 

Evadne beamed. 

“I shall contact Cuthbert at once!”

 

 

Five days later Hilda and Evadne were standing outside the Spanish City, clutching their music and costume bags.

Hilda transferred both bags to the same hand, and used her free hand to wave up at the Dancing Ladies. “I do hope they’re not too chilly, dear.”

Evadne sighed in mock exasperation. “Let’s just get inside, Hilda.”

They walked together in through the entrance.

“Oh, but this is _lovely!”_

Hilda marched to the centre of the foyer. 

“So elegant! And look at that dome... “ 

She tilted her head back as far as it would go and stared upwards. 

“That is marvellous. And I bet the acoustics are perfect.” 

She sang an arpeggio and the notes soared up towards the dome, amplifying as they went, before gradually fading away again. 

“Hilda,” said Evadne hesitantly. “If you wanted to sing after all, I—”

Hilda turned to her and shook her head firmly. “No, this is your big moment, dear. Remember, I am just here to support you.”

Evadne smiled at her. She gestured over at the waiting grand piano at the back of the foyer. 

“Well, let’s just run through our piece then.”

Hilda opened her music bag and whipped out her tambourine, ribbons aflutter. 

“Ready when you are, dear!”

 

 

After their rehearsal, they went to change into their frocks for the performance. And after Hilda had managed to choose between the five ever-so-special frocks she had brought with her, they made their way back to resume their places at the piano.

The front of the foyer had now been filled with chairs and the audience was starting to arrive.

“Excuse me! I wonder if I could just— Thank you so much.” Hilda tilted her head towards Evadne so she could whisper. “It’s quite a crowd come to see you. Well done, dear!”

Evadne looked modest.

“Well, I rather think it’s the Dancing Ladies most people will be interested in.” 

But she beamed round at the gathering throng. 

“I wonder if Cuthbert’s here yet. I would just like to have a word with him before the ceremony gets start—”

She froze.

Hilda looked at her worriedly. “Everything all right, dear?”

Evadne spoke out of the corner of her mouth without turning her head. “Hilda, standing over there in the crowd on the left.” She indicated minutely an elderly lady, svelte, statuesque and attractively turned out in a tailored coat. “That isn’t…? Surely it isn’t…? Oh, God—it _is.”_

She stalked forwards with Hilda close behind. 

_“Mother!_ What on _earth_ are you doing here?”

Maureen looked over at her daughter with a smile as Evadne and Hilda arrived at her side. 

“Well, it’s lovely to see you too, dear. Hello, Hilda.”

“Hello, Maureen,” smiled Hilda.

Evadne was staring at her mother. “You still haven’t explained why you’re here. Surely you can’t have just happened to stop by.”

“No, I was invited, dear. As you were.” Maureen sighed a little. “I really do think it’s too bad Cuthbert didn’t mention it to you. He promised that he would. But in any case, did you really think I would want to miss this? I made the trip down from Scotland especially.” 

“Yes, I see.” 

Evadne looked rather shamefaced. 

“No, I suppose it isn’t that odd your being here.”

“Of course it isn’t, my girl. I’m very excited about this ceremony!”

“Mrs. Montero…?”

Maureen turned to see a young lady waving.

“Ah, that’s the Spanish City’s manager, Ms. Visser. I must just see what she wants. If you’ll excuse me. girls…”

Maureen headed off towards the manager, and Hilda and Evadne headed back towards the piano.

“Evadne, you really are too bad,” said Hilda. “Your mother is just here to support you, like I am.”

“Yes, I suppose she is.” Evadne looked pensive though as she settled herself on the stool. 

“Come on,” said Hilda. “Let’s get ready for your big moment!” She picked the tambourine up off the edge of the piano and checked her watch. “It looks like it all must be starting soon.”

Evadne finished rearranging her music and looked up at Hilda. “I really would just like to check a few things with Cuthbert though before— Ah!”

Her face cleared. 

“Here he is now. I’ll just ask—”

As the mayor passed by, he beamed at the two of them without actually stopping, or indeed even slowing down. “So pleased to see you both here! Evadne, you managed to get the piece of music we requested?”

“Er, yes,” said Evadne. “Oddly enough, it’s an old favourite from my childhoo—”

“Excellent, excellent! Well, I’ll give you the nod when I want you to start playing!” Cuthbert gave them a small wave and headed for the front.

Evadne watched him go with a worried expression.

Hilda gave her a little smile. “It’ll be fine, dear. We’ve done our rehearsal, and you know the piece backwards. We just have to follow his lead when it comes to taking part in the ceremony itself.”

Cuthbert was now standing at the front, gesturing for quiet. And as the crowd hushed, he smiled round at everyone. Including Ms. Visser and Maureen, who were seated in the front row watching attentively.

“Welcome everyone!” said Cuthbert. “To this wonderful occasion! Another section of the renovation has been completed and now our Dancing Ladies are back home again! And to welcome them back to the Spanish City, we have a _very_ special guest here with us today…”

Hilda turned her head to smile at Evadne. Evadne simpered ever so slightly.

“I would just like to ask her to come to the front so I can introduce her properly…”

Evadne gently patted her hair and made to rise.

“And so, here now is our very special guest… Mrs. Maureen Montero!”

“What?!” Evadne’s face fell.

Meanwhile her mother was gracefully making her way out of her chair and to Cuthbert’s side, waving regally to the crowd as she went.

Evadne slumped back down onto the piano stool and stared at Hilda. 

“Hilda, what on earth is going on?”

“I honestly have no idea, dear.”

The two of them returned their attention to where Cuthbert was beaming at Maureen and shaking her hand vigorously. He turned to address the crowd. 

“We’re so pleased to have managed to persuade Mrs. Montero to be with us today. This isn’t widely known, but as the 18 year old Maureen McWhirter… Mrs. Montero was the artist’s model for both Dancing Ladies!”

There was an enthusiastic round of applause from the crowd.

“Mrs. Montero has agreed for a few publicity photographs to be taken so if our press photographers would like to come forward…?”

Four or five photographers did so. Maureen removed her coat, revealing a loose shift underneath formed from some pale, flimsy material. She handed her coat to Cuthbert and then glanced round at Hilda and Evadne.

“Ah, perfect!”

She strode over to Hilda.

“You don’t mind, do you, dear?”

She took the tambourine from Hilda’s hand and hurried back to the audience. Striking a pose, she raised the tambourine high and shook it. 

Many flashes went off, and Cuthbert turned to face Evadne.

_Now!_ he mouthed. 

Evadne turned to Hilda with a stricken face. “What do we do?”

“Only one thing we can do, dear,” said Hilda firmly. “Play!”

With trembling fingers, Evadne began to play a traditional Hungarian csárdás and Hilda joined in, clapping along to the beat.

Before them Maureen started to dance—stopping to pose at the end of each movement, to the accompaniment of flashing cameras and tentative and bemused applause.

“Hilda…” said Evadne in a faint voice, keeping her eyes resolutely on the keyboard. “Can you… Can you at least tell if Mother is wearing a sensible foundation garment under her dress...?”

“Oh, yes, dear. Definitely sensible. It’s unmistakable.” 

Hilda screwed up her eyes a little. 

“You can see right through that shift.”

Evadne moaned quietly to herself. “I should have known nobody was interested in me! It’s just my role in life—to be upstaged by my nearest and dearest!”

Hilda looked at her thoughtfully. Then she looked down at her music bag, tucked away under the piano. 

She glanced across at the mayor. 

“Evadne… I won’t be a moment. I’m just going to ask your Cuthbert something—”

Still clapping on the beat, Hilda sashayed away.

Evadne frowned as she watched her talking with Cuthbert. He suddenly gave her a big smile and a thumbs-up and Hilda turned and sashayed her way back again.

“Now, let me just get something out of my bag…”

“What on earth are you up to, Hilda Bracket?” whispered Evadne intently.

“I brought these along just in case…” Hilda eased out two 10” hand-held cymbals. “Here we go! Just perfect for a second Dancing Lady!”

Ever the professional, Evadne didn’t let her playing falter for a moment as she glared at Hilda. 

“Oh, I see. Being upstaged by my own mother isn’t enough! My oldest friend is going to join in too!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, dear.” Hilda held the cymbals out. _“You’re_ going to be the other Dancing Lady. The original model and her famous musical daughter recreating Whitley Bay’s beloved statues! Cuthbert agreed with me that it would be wonderful publicity.”

For the first time Evadne looked over at her mother properly, enjoying as always being the centre of attention and having a gay old time. She looked wistful for a moment. But then she shook her head.

“Oh, but I can’t, Hilda! You know I can’t dance. Especially in front of all these people.”

“You just need to hop rhythmically a bit and clash your cymbals. Nothing to it!” Hilda waggled the cymbals with a roguish grin. “Go on! Go and steal some of the limelight from your mother!”

“All right! I will!” Evadne glanced down at where her hands were still dancing over the keys. “But what about the piano?”

“I may not have your training, dear, but I can pick out a tune.” Hilda made a grand gesture towards the audience. “Now get out there in front of your public!”

“Yes! Here I come, Mother!” Evadne took her hands off the keys, stood up, and with great dignity took the cymbals from Hilda.

In exchange, Hilda gracefully slid onto the piano stool to take Evadne’s place.

She watched as her friend made her way to the front and awkwardly began to join in with the dance, Maureen greeting Evadne with a huge and delighted wink. 

“Bless her…” 

Hilda shook her head. 

She leant forward and considered the sheet music. 

“I really should have brought my readers… Hang on though. What was that song that Julian likes…?”

Hilda began picking out ‘Dancing Queen’ carefully, humming along with the tune.

She looked up again, and watched the two Hinges dancing—one with abandon and one rather more self-consciously—as the photographers continued to circle and take their pictures. 

She giggled to herself.

“I have to say, Whitley Bay has turned out to be rather more of an experience than I was anticipating.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of a mixture of fact and fiction, and a fudging of dates going on here. [The Dancing Ladies](https://youtu.be/zZaEqpQ37qg) exist but there was [no ceremony to welcome them home](https://youtu.be/dW-3m_5GllM) \- there was still months of renovation work to go on the inside of the building. Whitley Bay has no mayor or town council, and the manager of the Spanish City is not a young woman called Ms. Visser. 
> 
> Also, when the statues were first made in 1910, Maureen would really have still been a little girl, not 18. And now in 2018, strictly speaking Hilda and Evadne should be about 100, and Maureen about 120. But in the fic they are as they always were - in their sixties and eighties.


End file.
